


Sherlock Is Actually a Girls Name

by HolmesHounds



Series: Sherlock Is Actually a Girls Name [1]
Category: Elementary (TV), Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Alternate Universe, Case Fic, F/M, Female Mycroft, Female Sherlock Holmes, Genderbending, Male Molly, Multi, Past Drug Addiction, twist - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-02-05
Updated: 2014-06-25
Packaged: 2018-01-11 05:54:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 8,783
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1169490
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HolmesHounds/pseuds/HolmesHounds
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>John Watson has been hired by one M. Holmes to be the personal sober companion to one Sherlock Holmes. But Sherlock is not anything like what John was expecting. Danger, Adventure and Love await John in this fanfiction. Along with over dramatic sounding summary pages!</p><p>Sort of a combination Sherlock Elementary fic that has been messing about in my head for a little while so I decided to post it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Something I Always Meant to Say and Never Have

Dr. Watson  
Thank you so much for taking on this challenge. A check for the agreed upon amount can be found in this envelope along with a key to 221B Baker Street. If there is anything else you need from me you have my number. 

Sincerely, 

M. Holmes

 

John could not get over how short this letter was. Three simple sentences and no real explanation of what it was he was to be doing exactly. 

“Far too late now” He mumbled to himself as he looked out the darkly tinted windows of the car this.. M. Holmes.. had sent to pick him up from the motel living arrangements. Apparently his things would be along shortly after him, M had taken care of everything. All he had left was to meet his new charge and as the home numbers passed 215.. 217..219.. he knew that soon the moment would arrive. 

The driver got out and opened the door for him in silence. John nodded to the man in thanks, grabbed his cane and exited the vehicle. No sooner had he stepped away from the curb that the car was gone once again into the crowded London streets. 221B Baker Street was a quaint building, built over top of a small shop, Speedy’s, at least he wouldn’t have to go far for lunch. 

The key was pressed into the lock and tumblers turned, he was greeted by the sounds of soft violin music and steps. Almost against his will John sighed and started the slow trek up them causing the wood to moan in protest. He would certainly agree with the sentiment. The music grew louder as he ascended to find the door already open and a figure standing in the middle of the room with baseball bat resting on it’s shoulder. 

“Hello?”

“Iraq or Afghanistan?” 

The figured turned to reveal a rather tall women with shortly cropped brown hair and striking blue eyes. Her frame was average for someone her height and her skin pale but it was also covered in an assortment of tattoos.They were quite extensive, running from her belly button, around her torso and ending on her chest. He could tell all of this because she was not in fact wearing a shirt, or bra for that matter.  
It only took a moment for John to come to the conclusion that perhaps he should not be looking at her breasts. He turned quickly to look up at the ceiling which seemed to be covered in some sort of red goo. 

“Uh.. Wha..why..” John stumbled to complete a thought just to have it cut off by this mystery women. 

“I deduced that you were a soldier judging from your labored climb up the steps. Most non fatal injuries incurred during war service is to the legs and judging by the sound of your uneven steps and use of cane that this be the case. But judging by your gait and posture I was wrong. Yes solider but no wound. Your therapist believes it’s psychosomatic pain and if they don’t you should fire them. You’ve also been living in a hotel judging from the state of your clothes, creased along the front but wrinkled around the neck like it’s been shoved somewhere once folded many times instead of hung up properly, a luggage bag perhaps. You also smell faintly of Pure Castile soap which know to be used by the Tune Hotel. I’ve deduced all of this in the time it has taken for you to discover that I am a women, come now you’re a doctor you’ve seen mammary glands before stop blushing. What war was it Dr. Watson?” 

And there it was. The last month and a half of John’s life diluted into one very long monotonous stream. All he could come back with was  
“Afghanistan” 

There was only a slight pause before he could hear her moving closer to him putting the end of the baseball bat against the floor. 

“Well Doctor, The name is Sherlock Holmes and I can’t say I’m pleased to meet you.”

And before John could respond she disappeared around the corner into the kitchen bat still in hand.


	2. I Stand Baffled

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Picking up right where we left off in the last chapter. John Watson does not know what to do about this Ms. Holmes and has no idea what sort of trouble he's getting himself into. Hope you enjoy!

“That was amazing” John stated to the empty air where Sherlock had previously stood. Off toward the kitchen he heard a mildly amused scoff in response. He stepped carefully around a blue tarp that had been laid out across the sitting room floor. It seemed to also be splattered in the same red goo that he’d noticed from the ceiling. He tried to keep from getting any on his shoes as he made his way into the kitchen to follow her.

The bat had been discarded against a wall, which honestly made John feel a bit safer, and had been replaced by a microscope. Sherlock sat on a stool looking intently down at a slide and completely ignoring John’s existence. Now, having recovered from the shock at her state of undress John could get a good look at this Ms. Sherlock Holmes.

The tattoo around her torso looked to be a pattern of symbols and numbers that John could not identify. There were also two lines of dark tattoos running from her wrists to the inside of her elbows. He believed he knew the reason for those. She also seemed to be covered in small flecks of red goo to match the rest of the apartment. It was speckled all over her bare skin and the cut off jean shorts she was wearing. No socks, no shoes. Considering it was winter in London John was impressed but concerned for her health. That was why he was here after all.

“Well. Ms. Holmes I have been hired as a live in doctor to make sure your post rehabilitation transition…”

“I know why you’re here Doctor but I really have no use of you. My time with drugs is over and that, as they say, is that” Sherlock responded in a dismissive tone not even looking up from whatever it was she was inspecting.

“Most recovering addicts say the..”

“I’m not ‘most recovering addicts’” She said once again interrupting John which was starting to get on his nerves to be honest. He stiffened and stood full height no longer leaning on his cane for support. He walked swiftly closer to her brow furrowed in determination.

“I will be living with you for the next 6 weeks whether you like it or not so you may as well be cooperative” John announced. In the few emails he’d shared with M in the days prior they had informed him that his charge would be particularly resistant to take John’s help. But John was a persistent man and he would not fail in this task.

Sherlock finally pulled away from her microscope and looked him full in the face but only for a moment.

“Alright” She said simple before shifting to turn, popping off her stool and answer her cellphone which John hadn’t even noticed ring. John had been prepared to fight with her, prove to her he would be useful and someone to confide in. He had so many words to use but all of them would remain unsaid. For the second time in the span of less than 5 minutes John Watson was baffled by Sherlock Holmes.

 

“Yes….quarter past.. yes.. Don’t let Anderson touch anything he’ll get idiot on it...Don’t laugh Lestrade!.. Right Text me the address.” Sherlock promptly pressed the end call button on her iphone before returning it to the counter. “I have to change. Ms. Hudson! Tea!” She shouted the last statement as she briskly walked past the front door and into a room at the end of the hall. The door shut with a thud leaving John alone.

For a moment John stood in silence before the mess of bottles and strange liquids on Sherlocks table. Suddenly he smacked it just hard enough to rattle the glassware.

“What the bloody hell was all of that!” He exclaimed to the empty room, which turned out to not be as empty as he thought.

“Language! Goodness me!” exclaimed the small voice of an older women. She was wearing an old fashioned blue dress covered in small white flowers. Her dress almost seemed to match the white and blue porcelain cups she carried. She gave John a frown and as cleared his throat.

“Sorry.. Mrs.Hudson I presume? Doctor John Watson” he told her as the women pushed the strange assortment aside.

“It’s very nice to meet you Doctor. Will you be staying with Sherlock now? I couldn’t help but over here” She said motioning down at the floor a little while she poured him a cup of tea. He could hear a door open and another close from down the hall followed by the shower starting. “It so nice having her home again. It was dreadfully quiet.” Mrs. Hudson said offering John the cup. He took it and shifted to take a seat in one of the kitchen chairs.

“Is she always so…” He furrowed his brow to try and think of a word for it but Mrs. Hudson just laughed

“Oh yes dear, you get used to it” She said giving him a warm pat on the shoulder “I’ll bring you up the key to the upstairs bedroom. Do you think you’ll manage it? You know.. with your leg?” She asked looking down at the cane John had rested against his thigh.

He took a stiff sip of tea and glared down at the cane he apparently didn’t need but could not rightly rid himself of. Having Sherlock second his therapists diagnosis just made his still having it all the more infuriating. Damn his leg.

“Yes Mrs. Hudson. I think I’ll be fine” He said despite himself. Sherlock swept into the room suddenly her hair still wet from the shower. That was the fastest shower he’d ever witnessed, especially from a women. She was now dressed in tightly fitting black trousers and a nice button down maroon shirt. She grabbed a purple scarf from the hook by the door and quickly fastened it around her neck.  

“Well Doctor if you’re going to be tailing me you should hurry up. The game is afoot” she  said beaming down at him as she grabbed a thick trench coat from the adjacent hook. Her face now filled with glee, though not as intimidating as her previous bat wielding look of disdain did not make John feel any better about his prospects. It was a bit to manic for his liking.

“Tea Sherlock? Before you go?” Mrs. Hudson inquired as the lanky women pulled her coat around her and flipped up the collar.

“Haven’t the time Mrs.Hudson. There has been a murder! It’s so good to be back. Come John” She said indicating with her head that he should follow her.

“Thank you. Lovely meeting you” John said quickly putting the cup down and jumping to his feet. Cane in hand he followed her as quickly as he could. “A murder? What exactly is it you do Ms. Holmes?” He asked as the both of them were met with the cool London air.

“I’m a consulting detective for Scotland yard. Were the conditions of your hotel stay so unpleasant you didn’t wish to learn more about me before taking this job?” She asked quirking a brow at him as she hailed a cab coming their way.

“Awful. I was just hoping you weren’t a psychopath” John said with a laugh as the car pulled up. “I suppose time will have to tell on that one” He moved to slide into the car. Sherlock followed and closed the door before looking to him and saying simply.

“High functioning sociopath”


	3. The Ginger in the Box

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John steps into Sherlocks shoes as he joins her for her first case post rehab. Actually some legit plot going on and stuff. I hope you like it :D Longest bit yet.
> 
> Feedback is always appreciated :D

“Freaks back” announced a female detective at the edge of the crime scene tape. John wasn’t sure what she meant until Sherlock grinned humorlessly from her place at his side.

“It’s always nice to see you Donovan” She said curtsying dramatically before the other women, using the edges of her coat like a skirt. Without waiting for the detectives permission or any other indication she simple ducked the tape and strode onto the active crime scene. John tried his best to keep up but his damnable limp put him a little bit behind. Before he knew it Sherlock was ages off and he was still being faced by the mildly annoyed Sgt.  Donovan.

“And who are you sir? Freak got herself a boyfriend?” She asked actually sounding a little impressed as her eyes ran over John. This made him very uncomfortable turning his cheeks a light shade of pink.

“No!..no.. I am not her.. boyfriend I am simply…” John tried to explain himself but once again was interrupted by Sherlocks shout from somewhere in the distance.

“Come on John! Hurry up! We haven’t the time!” John sighed in annoyance and just ducked down and around the sergeant to follow the sound of his companion’s fading voice.

“I’d get out while you can if I were you. Crazy, that one is” Donovan called to John’s back. He didn’t dignify her comment with a response.

The crime scene had been a fair distance from their flat so the drive had given the two a chance to talk, despite Sherlocks annoyance to the idea.

“Here are the rules of our arrangement and Sherlock I swear to god I will stop this cab if you interrupt me again.” John said firmly giving her a hard look. Her green blue eyes narrowed as she looked at him before she interlaced her finger together and rested her chin on her knuckles.

“You have the floor Doctor Watson” She crossed her legs in the small space and rested her elbows on her knee. John cleared his throat a little bit and nodded.

“Good. As a sober companion I will be performing routine drug tests and searches around the flat. We also can’t be apart longer than 2 hours. You earn your privacy yeah? And we will be going to meetings at least twice a week.” He said firmly slightly surprised as none of this garnered any reaction from Sherlock. She just continued to stare at him with those knowing eyes. So John just continued “Obviously no one else needs to know about this. Doctor patient confidentiality. So introduce me however you see fit and I’ll play along” He nodded and leaned back in the cab seat a little bit. He relaxed a little now, glad to have said his piece. “And you can talk to me of course. If you need to, for anything” He said trying to emphasize this but he could already tell she was not the one to talk about feelings.

It was quiet for a long moment after John was done, Sherlock just watching him and John getting more uncomfortable under her gaze. She then blinked and leaned back.

“Are you done?” She asked which made John blink.

“Yes…”

“Good. I’ve already googled it I know the deal. I’d rather my colleagues not know about this, they’ve been told I was on vacation in America. Except for the Detective Inspector. He knows” Sherlock said in the same fast tone as before then pausing for a moment “Everything else is fine as long as it doesn’t interfere with my case load” She said looking out the window a bit and watching the building pass them by. John raised a brow a little bit at her.

“We’ll see. Glad to hear we’re in agreement“ He offered her a hand to shake to seal the deal. Looking sideways at the gesture she carefully shook it and gave it a shake.

A body lay in the middle of the floor of an abandoned factory on the edge of the city. It was female, auburn hair and blue lips. Not because of make up but the lack of air that John suspected was her cause of death. What was strange was she was laying with her arms crossed over her chest in what looked like the bottom half of refrigerator box. Besides the deathly pale tint of her skin and slightly dishevel of her clothes it looked as if she could have been sleeping.

When John and Sherlock moved into the room which looked to have once been a kitchen they were greeted by a tall, fit, silver haired man. He had been worrying over a corner of the box until he spotted them.

“Sherlock” He said as a smile spread across his face. He covered the distance between them in just a few steps and embraced her quickly. John saw her stiffen at the contact but then wrapped one arm around him and rubbing his back. “It’s good to see you again. You look good” The man said taking a short step back to look down at her.

“Hello Lestrade. The same to you.” She said with a nod up at him very briefly before her eyes turned to the body. “May I?” She asked but did not wait for him to respond. She carefully brushed the Detective Inspector aside and was at the box in a flash. Pulling out a small magnifying glass John could tell Sherlock could now care less about their presence. Lestrade turned his attention to John and nodded to him.

“Detective Inspector Greg Lestrade” He said offering the doctor a hand to shake.

“Doctor John Watson” John responded giving the other mans hand a shake. “I’m Sherlocks.. companion” To this Lestrade chuckled and nodded.

“I’ve been told. Good Luck mate. I hope you have patience” He said patting John on the shoulder firmly as the two of them just stood back and watched Sherlock work. After a couple of minutes Sherlocks stood up and turned to look at the other two men.

“Come here John, tell me. What do you make of this?” She asked waving her hand at the scene and pulling her phone out of her pocket. John was a little taken aback by this, as was Lestrade. It looked like he was going to protest John’s involvement but apparently thought better of it. He motioned the doctor towards the body and crossed his arms. “Don’t touch anything” was all he said instead.

John cleared his throat a little bit before taking a few steps up to the side of the box and looked in. Kneeling down he very carefully used the end of his cane to nudge her head to the side.

“Female, late 20’s..Her lips are blue so I suspect she died of lack of oxygen but I don’t see ligature marks to suggest strangulation so.. poisoning? And the lack of rigor I’d say she’s been dead at least a day.” He said hesitantly looking over the box slowly. “I suspect she was dumped here?” He gave Sherlock and inquisitive look . She had the tips of her fingers pressed together and rested them against her chin.

“Very good John! Entirely wrong but very good” Sherlock said joining John in kneeling. “This women was suffocated. She was placed into this box alive and buried judging from the traces of fresh soil around the edges of the box,” She said indicating on the floor. “And the scratch marks on the sides of the box. It also looks like the box was wired judging from the tape residue here and here” She pointed to spots along the side of the box. “He was watching her slowly die..” Sherlock said chewing on the cap of her pen a little with the side of her mouth.

“You mean he set up a camera underground?” Lestrade asked making a face of disgust. Sherlocked nodded “Yes Yes and he’s done this before. You’ve found 3 of his victims already” She said standing suddenly and showing Lestrade her phone. John stood and leaned to get a good look at it as well. She had pulled up news reports from earlier in the month, all in varying places around the city. “I’ll need to see these bodies as well. Find a connection” She said tapping her chin with the pen. Lestrade looked stunned for a moment before he laughed a bit.

“If I didn’t miss this… So you think we have a serial then huh?” He asked mumbling the first bit to himself. John couldn’t help but think that maybe Lestrade fancied Sherlock a bit, though he could just be glad to see her again. He knew that Sherlock had been out of contact while in rehab and she’d been away for months so. He did not claim to be a great reader of people, as Sherlock had so kindly pointed out.

“Exactly Lestrade, I’m a bit disappointed you hadn’t put this together earlier.” Sherlock said clicking her tongue at him a little. Lestrade furrowed his brow a little bit but didn’t express any more annoyance than that. “Come now Dr. Watson. We are going to the morgue, I need to see the other bodies” she was gone out of the room almost before she was done the sentence. John was already starting to get the hang of things though and he was quickly following her.

“You seem quite pleased about all of this” He said again finding himself walking briskly to keep up with the speedy detective.

“Serial Killers are always far more interesting. They’re just begging for me to catch them” She exclaimed and before John knew it he was back in a cab on his way to the morgue.

Sherlock must have texted ahead of time because by the time the two showed up the 3 bodies in question were laid out on the slabs. In front of them stood a shorter red headed man, the mortician, John assumed. His hair was a bit shaggy but well kept along with his carefully trimmed facial hair. Thin silver glasses sat on his nose doing their best not to hide his hazel eyes. When Sherlock came into the room he visibly stood a little bit straighter and adjusted his lab coat.

“It’s good to see you Sherlock.” he said with a small nod and a hesitant smile, but John could see pink creeping into the tone of his cheeks. Sherlock seemed more well liked than John would have first guessed. “How was your vacation?” He asked as she walked past him. Sherlock actually seemed to give his arm a small squeeze as she went by though. Curious indeed.

“Absolutely dreadful. It’s good to be back” She said as she moved over to inspect the bodies, not bothering to introduce John once again. The man turned to look at him and tilted his head just a bit.

“Who’s your friend Sherlock?” He asked turning back to look at her. She was inspecting one of the bodies hands with her magnifying glass.

“I don’t have friends” She mumbled, obviously to interested in the body to really care what they were talking about. The way she said it made it seem like a default response. John moved over to the man’s side and offered him a hand.

“Dr.John Watson” he said as the other man gave him a slight once over with his eyes.

“Morgan Hooper” he said softly then leaned in a little bit lowering his voice. “Are you here to help her with.. you know” he said using his other hand to pantomime pushing a needle into his arm then raising a brow at him. The doctor blinked a little and took a small step away from him.

“I am Sherlocks companion thats all” He said as vaguely as possible but Morgan seemed to draw his own conclusions.

“I put two and two together a long time ago… I tried to help but… after all that happened to her I really can’t… blame her.” He said sliding his hands into the pockets of his coat pockets. Before John could really dwell on what Morgan had just told him the other man had moved away to help Sherlock put bits of fibers and dirt through machines John had only seen on TV.

For the next hours or two, John had not kept count, Sherlock and Morgan danced around the lab running tests on evidence in relative silence. It was really amazing to watch but he didn’t get to do much of that. Sherlock had him running and grabbing things that always ended up being annoyingly close to her. Occasionally Morgan would have him assist in looking at something medical related but John was used to and preferred his patients alive. But despite the silence and his annoyance at his mostly mundane role in this he found that he was really enjoying himself.

“Damn” Sherlock said under her breath and slumped in her chair a bit “I thought for sure the fibers would match.” She said crossing her arms over her chest for a moment. Morgan and John both stopped what they were doing to look at her in silence. “He’ll mess up. And when he does I’ll be there” she said tapping her fingers against her shoulder then rubbing it a little bit with her palm. “There isn’t much else to be done..Come John” She said getting back up and going to grab her coat and scarf from their place discarded on a chair. “You tell me the moment those soil samples come back” She said pointing at Morgan than patting him gently on the back as she made her way out the doors. John followed quickly behind.

“Was that just a normal day for you?” John asked on the cab ride back to the apartment. He had to stifle a yawn as he did so. It had been a very long day and he hoped very much that his things had been delivered. He was pretty sure he could sleep for a week and it was only 9 pm.

“Yes the life of a consulting detective is a very exciting one indeed. Most of the time anyway. I imagine this is nothing for a military man like yourself” She said glancing sideways at him.

“Well it’s different to say the least” John said leaning back into the seat and closed his eyes just for the moment. “Just because I’ve been with you all day does not mean you get out of tests this evening” He said firmly which simple earned him a hmmph in response. The rest of the ride was spent in relative silence until John felt Sherlock tense at his side once they had reached their destination. She was gone from the cab in a flash and at the front door.

“No” She mumbled just loud enough for John to hear.

“I’ll just pay for the cab then” He said in mild annoyance as he did just that. Sherlock did not respond, and after only a day with Sherlock Holmes he was starting to get used to being ignored. She unlocked the door and was up the stairs in a flash. She stopped in the doorway, her shoulders squared and her posture on the offensive. John was rightly confused by all of this as he made his way up behind her and tried to get a look around her coat thickened frame.

“Sherlock what?” He asked using his cane to carefully nudge her. She actually gave in to his action and stepped to the side just inside of the doorway. He stepped forward to see that there was a woman in her.. now their, flat. She was a bit shorter than Sherlock and an awful lot more curvy than Sherlock. The black dress and heels she wore were very flattering to her body shape and were a bit flirty but professional. Long brown hair fell down her shoulders in loose curls framing her face and making her blue eyes pop.

“Mycroft” Sherlock said looking at her tensely. The women simply looked amused.

“Oh please Shelby. Like that name would bother me” She said rolling her eyes a little before looking to John.

**“Maya Holmes. Nice to finally meet you”**


	4. M. Holmes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John learns a bit more about the Holmes family. Not to much summary to give >.> I hope you like it! :D

It only took John a second to put it together. 

M Holmes.

“You’re the one that hired me then?” He asked her as he moved over to give the other woman's hand a shake. “It’s nice to finally put a face to the name and a name to the initial” he said chuckling a bit but Maya only smiled faintly. It was clear she was not at all interested in John Watson. Looking between the two women John could see the resemblance. Soft feminine facial features that Sherlock hid with upturned collars and messy curls, while Mya embraced with light makeup and a gentle wave to her slightly lighter locks.But despite their eyes being different shades they matched in the cool calculating way they looked at each other. Granted Sherlocks held much more distain while Maya was merely amused. Sherlock must have already begun to rub off on John seeing as he gathered all of that from a look.

“I didn’t want to see you before sister mine and I don’t want to see you now. Get out.” Sherlock snapped with anger simmering. Mya smiled and moved closer, using a black and white umbrella slightly like a cane as she did so.

“I simply wanted to make sure John was settled in. My people have brought his things.” She said just as John noticed the suitcase sitting by the door along with a single box. He didn’t own many things as of yet. “And aren’t I allowed to worry about my little sister Shelby?” She asked gently brushing a curl off of Sherlock's’ forehead. John could see Sherlock tensing in an attempt to resist doing something to stop her.

“No” She said before turning and promptly leaving the room. John flinched a little hearing the door down the hall slam closed. Mya turned back to John sighing softly.

“She always did have a pension for the dramatic” She said brushing her hair back behind her ears carefully. John thought that dramatics might be genetic. “I hear you’ve joined her case, good. It seems she won't mind having you around too much then.” She came over and put a warm hand on his shoulder giving it a soft squeeze. He got a wiff of her perfume as she did so making his head feel just a bit fuzzy. He had to take a moment not to redden at the attention. It didn’t help when she moved her touch to his stubbled cheek. “After Irene I thought she’d be more resistant but I’m glad to be wrong for once” She said but John could tell from her eyes she didn’t mean it. “Do you know about Irene?” She asked pulling away finally to look at some of the papers on Sherlocks desk. John cleared his throat a little bit and shook his head.

“No but let Sherlock tell me in her own time” He said quickly. He knew it would betray any type of trust he could possibly build with the eccentric detective if he got any out of the sister he obviously despised. Mya seemed pleased by his refusal and nodded.

“I suppose that’s for the best” She moved to a bag near the table and pulled out a file before handing it to him. “Give this to her when she’s done having her tantrum” She said before heading toward the door. John hesitated a moment before deciding it was an alright thing to ask.

“Wait.. Mya. Why did she call you Mycroft when she walked in?” John asked as he pressed the file under his arm. Mya paused and turned to look back at him.

“Mycroft is my sudonume I use for consulting. Despite how progressive this world claims to be the government would rather be advised by a man” She shook her head in minor annoyance. “She believes it bothers me” She continued with a shrug. “Sherlock is her sudonume. Her real name is Shelby” Mya said with a nod before turning to head down the steps once again. “We’ll be in touch Doctor” and with that the older Holmes sister was gone.

John sighed softly and remained in the middle of the room for just a moment before going to the door he assumed to be Sherlocks (judging from previous slamming) and knocked.

“She’s gone and I need this test done now please” John called. There was a brief moment of silence before the door opened and Sherlock emerged. She extended her hand to him into which he placed a cotton swab. She quickly swabbed her mouth and handed it back. They both waited looking at the test indicator to bare results. After a moment it turned a soft blue color meaning Sherlock was still clean. John nodded “Good. Good Night Sherlock. Oh and Mya told me to give this to you” he said offering the stiff brunette the file. Sherlock merely glanced at the file before making a noise of annoyance. “Throw it away” She said firmly before turning on her heels and closing the door behind her. John raised a brow at the piece of wood that had now been placed between them before moving away.

“Not a dull moment” He said softly going to put the file among the stacks of paper on the desk instead. A cursory glance around at them told him they were covering topics ranging from the composition of tobacco smoke to articles about the world record for most spaghetti eaten in one sitting. He wasn’t sure what this said about the women he had now made his flat mate but he knew it must be something.

Out of curiosity John opened the folder to have a look at what Sherlock would be ignoring. It looked like another case. There was a picture clipped to the edge of the paper of a young women smiling in front of what was easily identifiable as the Natural History Museum in London. He furrowed his brow a bit and slowly started to read. The women was a 28 year old archaeologist named Bethany Hill. She had been working on the dating and identification of bones found in Egypt when she, and the bones, had gone missing. The theory was she had discovered they were rare and worth something so she ran to sell them on the black market. Egypt would not be pleased if they learned of Britain losing remains placed in their custody so Mya was requesting Sherlock find her and the bones. Though the way Sherlock reacted to the request John had a feeling that this wasn’t going to be solved, by her anyway.

John felt sorry for this girl, he wasn’t sure why though. The file made her out to be a criminal looking to sell the bones to a collector but just something in her face told him she was innocent. After a moment the doctor shook his head and closed the file. He’d already decided that maybe he could look into it himself. He doubted Mya cared who did it as long as the case was solved.

Over the next hour John went about making himself a sandwich then going for a wash. Once he was done he realized he had left his clothes down in the living room. Of course. John wrapped a towel around his waist firmly before limpingly descending the steps. Carefully John rooted around through the box to find a pair of boxers when he felt coolskin press mutedly against his back. Out of trained instinct John spun around to grab the hand that these curious fingers belonged to. Sherlock stood behind him not looking the least bit startled by the encounter, at least to John’s eye anyway. Her hair was mussed and she was wearing a long flannel shirt that just covered her enough to stem any worry John had of his new flatmate being a nudist. He cleared his throat a bit before letting her go.

“Sorry, you startled me. I thought you’d gone to bed.” He said turning back to the box to see about pants. His hold on the towel protecting him from the world tightened.

“Why didn’t you tell me I was wrong?” She asked as she crossed her arms over her chest.

“What are you on about?” He asked pausing once again.

“I said there was no wound, I was wrong.” She said motioning to the pink puckered scar that her fingers had brushed against on his upper right side.

“Oh, yes, I didn’t think it was relevant. Nothing to do with my leg, you were right about that” He said turning to show her the almost matching scar on his chest. She took a step closer and reached out to touch it but must have thought better of it. Sherlock pulled her hands away to return them to her sides.

“A through and through. It must have punctured a lung. You’re very lucky Doctor.” She said eyeing him before moving away and taking a seat by the hearth.

“Yes yes very lucky...would you mind?” He said pausing under her gaze and wiggling the boxers and pants in his hand. Sherlock rolled her eyes a bit and looked away to the corner.

“I have seen the male genetalia many times Doctor.” She said with a sigh in her voice as John went about pulling on his boxers and pants as quickly as he could.

“Yeah, but they weren’t mine” That earned John a half smile and a laugh from the detective.

Once he was dressed he went and took a seat in the chair that faced opposite hers. He took a moment just looking at her before taking a breath.

“Mya mentioned something about an Irene. Who’s that?” he asked her gently. Sherlock looke away from him quickly and wiggled one of her bare feet. For the first time all day the Detective looked rather uncomfortable.

“Someone I used to know. She is dead now. I’d rather not discuss it” She stated quickly her fists clenching slightly at the chairs fabric.

“It helps to talk about these things you know.” John said sitting forward a bit and resting his elbows on his knees. He wanted to know as much as he could about Sherlock, he couldn’t help her if he didn’t know.

“I was in rehab Doctor, I am well aware of how much people in your position value talking. Can’t say that I agree with you.” She said wrinkling her nose a bit.

“Well agree with me or not you are still going to a meeting with me tomorrow” John said leaning back once again and crossed his arms. Sherlock continued to make the wrinkled annoyed face and John couldn’t help but laugh. “Don’t look so excited” He said rubbing his arms a bit and glancing away from her to the rest of the room, debating putting on a shirt. It was only now that he noticed that the tarp and goo that had previously covered the floor was gone. It felt like ages ago that he had met Ms. Holmes. It couldn’t possibly be that it was just this morning she had been standing here glaring at him with a bat.

“What was it you were doing this morning Sherlock?” John asked as Sherlocks face relaxed back to normal.

“I was testing splatter patterns with fruit stand ins. I do hate when Mycroft touches my things” She said with great annoyance in her voice. She moved a cup sitting on the side table a foot to the left before getting up.

“There is fresh fruit salad in the fridge, help yourself. Good Night Watson” She said tipping her head to him as she left to return to her room. A smile turned the corners of Jon’s lips as he watched her leave.

“Good Night Sherlock Holmes”  
Perhaps he was going to enjoy his time here.


	5. Memories?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John needs to get into Sherlocks head if he's going to help her get past her addiction. Thats going to be pretty hard if she wont let him in. Case progress will be made and dramas are to come in the newest chapter.

“Sherlock…. Sherlock are you even listening? These stories might help you from relapsing” John whispered to the seeming comatose detective. The two of them were seated at the back of a rec room in the basement of a very nice Church. It had been two weeks since John had come to live with Sherlock but despite his insistence this was the first time they had made it to a meeting. Every time they were about to go Sherlock would get a call from Lestrade and off they would go to another crime scene. He could have sworn that Sherlock and Lestrade must have had some sort of signal.

In the time John had been there he’d been a party to, 3 murder investigations, all solved, 2 missing children, both found, and one embezzlement, money returned. It was astonishing to him that Sherlock could so easily figure every one of these cases out without so much as breaking a sweat He’d actually decided to bring a journal along with him to document her process as best that he could. Despite his frustration with the blunt detective he was having a fairly good time. Very exciting. And that wasn’t even mentioning all of the strange things that had happened around the flat. Avoiding being a live test subject for the detective was a constant job.

One thing that did perplex him was the fact that Sherlock had made no progress on the serial killer from the week before. The dirt samples had come back to an archeological dig site in Egypt. John had suggested they go to the Natural History Museum and see about their new collection from around there (John wanted to do a bit of investigating for Maya there as well) but Sherlock had brushed off the idea and done nothing about it since. This was very puzzling to him because she had been so enthused by the case until now. So finally John had been able to drag Sherlock to a meeting, hoping that maybe she’d open up.

Unfortunately it seemed like the opposite was happening.

“Sherlock” John hissed again earning him a few annoyed glares from the participants around them. Sherlock had her eyes closed and her legs crossed remaining unmoving. Then she opened one eye to look at him sideways.

“Shhhh, I’m meditating” She said softly and closed her eye again.

“You’re supposed to be listening” He said softer now and a bit more gently. Meditating, really.

“I have no need for any of this… information” She said the last word in a rather sarcastically. “I already told you I don’t need to come to these meetings” She said lacing her fingers together. Her tone was very matter of fact as if to tell John his annoyance was his own fault. John heaved a heavy sigh before turning back to face the person currently talking, a young man talking about a family pet or some reason.

“Well Sherlock, you don’t have a case right now so we’ll be coming back tomorrow as well” John said sternly. He knew he shouldn’t use meetings as punishment for her misbehaving but the “threat” had slipped out before he’d really thought it through.

“Of course I have a case Watson.” She said pausing a little before continuing. “We’ll go to the Museum first thing tomorrow morning.” Sherlock said with a firmness he’d not heard before. This surprised the doctor quite a bit. He turned back to look at her for a moment then nodded

“Alright then”

“Indeed”

Sherlock kept her eyes locked on the speakers for the rest of the meeting, though John could tell she was somewhere in her own head. He wished she would just tell him what was wrong.

“We are with Scotland yard. I am Dr. John Watson and this is Sherlock Holmes. We are here investigating a murder, could we please see your archeological department?” John asked a man who had identified himself as the security manager. The man eyed the sudo badge Sherlock was holding tensely before nodding.

“This way” he grunted at the both of them before leading the way through the displays. Sherlock walked with determination, her eyes locked on the man’s head in front of her.

“Please just tell me what’s wrong Sherlock” John said once again, the third time this morning and probably the 10th since their decision to come here the day before.

“Your constant accusal that I am not alright is what’s wrong Doctor Watson. I’m trying to deduce” She snapped back at a whisper. John put his hands up a little bit to announce his surrender before going quiet once again.

The guard lead them back through the staff only hallways into a rather large room with many windows covered by closed blinds. There were 12 tables and stations marked with the names of whom they belonged. At the moment there were only 5 people in the room, none of whom looked up from their work under magnifying glasses and carefully set up lights.

“Have at it. Don’t touch anything” He mumbled before retreating once again from the room. Sherlock looked to Watson and crossed her arms for just a moment before she was off around the room. She dipped under tables and pulling out her own magnifying glass. John decided to move on the human element.

“Excuse me everyone! Could I please have your attention?” He called to the busy room. Quickly eyes raised to look at him then Sherlock who was squatting near the door looking at a crack in the bottom of the door frame. “I need to ask you all a few questions if that's alright” He said shifting toward the group.

“Do any of you know this women?” He asked offering a picture he had brought courtesy of the detective inspector of the buried women. The five of them slowly took a look at the photo and heads started to shake.

“There aren’t many of us on this project and I know for sure that women is not one of them” an older women with curly gray hair told him.

“No I don’t suppose you would…” Sherlock said from the other side of the room. She was standing in the lab doorway now arms crossed. “I have what I need Watson. Lets be off” John furrowed his brow a bit at her.

“We’ve just gotten here. You can’t have done…”

“Sherlock?”

John was cut off by a rather startled exclamation from someone standing in the doorway behind the detective. Sherlock seemed to wince a little at her name before turning to face a short slightly pudgy women with shoulder length blonde hair.

“Hello Melissa” Holmes said tilting her head slightly in a cool nod. Despite the chill to Sherlock's welcome the women she had called Melissa seemed unphased. A smile spread across her face.

“It has been a long time. Are you here on a case?” She asked slinging a lunch box she was carrying over her shoulder. Sherlock looked around the room a little before turning to look down at the women.

“Yes, could we talk in another room?” She asked and Melissa nodded quickly.

“Oh of course! I’m sorry. We can talk in my office” She said motioning down the hall they had entered from. The two of them started out of the room and John started to follow. Sherlock held up a hand to stop him.

“It will just take a moment” She assured him before heading off with this Melissa and disappeared into a room. John furrowed his brow a little bit at the now empty hallway before turning back to the room. She was allowed to be without him for an hour so he set his watch, though he didn’t think Sherlock could possibly talk to someone for that long. But it gave him a little time to work on the Bethany Hill case.

“Could one of you tell me where I can find Bethany Hill’s station?” He asked the lot of them as they moved back to work. The curly haired women from before motioned him to her.

“Sure sure follow me” She told him as she lead him out of the room and down a side hallway. “She was working in here, be careful” she told him as she motioned to a small side room with no door.

“Thanks” He nodded to her before sliding inside. It was a very cramped space made more so by the mess. The room had probably been storage before the girl had been moved into it. There was a small desk with a lamp and magnifying glass like the ones in the lab. He started going over the room slowly and meticulously as he could. He knew Sherlock would have been done by now but John was a human being, he needed a little time. The papers on her desk were simply notes about the missing samples, the records of whose hands they went through during the day and some doodles of birds. Not all that helpful. What was helpful was the very softly lingering odor of bleach on the table and the books that lay stacked on the floor. All of the other books were in alphabetical order on shelves around the room but these were in haphazard order and where they were in the way. Judging from the great care was taken with the other books but not anything else in the room John didn’t think she would leave books on the ground like this. Had someone hurt her and tried to set the room back up? Or maybe he was just reaching for some sort of explanation other than the one Maya had presented him. Regardless he thought Sherlock would be proud of his outside the box thinking if she was capable of such emotion.

Once he had finished writing all his notes on the room he glanced at his watch. To his surprise Sherlock had been gone 45 minutes, only 15 left before he had to call the dogs on her. That was enough time to go and ask the archeologists if they used bleach in any part of their process to explain the smell in Bethany’s office. But it wasn’t to much of a rush, the doctor took his time walking back down the hallway. The walls were covered in framed pictures of employees with different exhibits or at parties etc. John put his hands in his pockets and walked slowly down the hall looking at them. He wasn’t quite sure what he was looking for, maybe that Melissa women, but obviously Sherlock had some sort of connection with the museum and he was going to figure this out.

It didn’t take but a few minutes for him to find just what he’d suspected. Near the middle of the hall was a picture separated a little from the rest of the photos. It’s frame was more fancy than the rest with white embroidery on the black frame. The picture was of a young women sitting on a stool in front of a partly painted canvas. Her soft brown eyes looked out at John with a slight crinkle in her corner from her smile. It was a shy one, like she wasn’t quite sure she was ready to be photographed. Her dark brown curls were pinned out of her face with clips but the rest fell messily down her shoulder and back. A white dress that was splattered here and there with paint clung to her form in a very flattering fashion. She was indeed beautiful. Under the photo set into the frame was a small plaque that read.

“Irene Adler, Artist and Restoration 1983 - 2012”

That explained why Sherlock was so reluctant to come. Irene had worked here, the entire building was probably filled with memories of her. It made John wonder just what Irene was to Sherlock. He pulled his notebook back out and copied down the little bit of information on the plaque as someone walked down the hall behind him. There hadn’t been to many people up and back this way while he had been looking over the office but enough that their presence didn’t bother him. But it should have.

As John pushed the pad back into his pocket he felt something sharp and cold press into the soft flesh of his neck. He let out a soft gasp and almost immediately he could feel his senses starting to dull. Rough hands gripped his shoulder then pressed over his mouth. His body felt heavy and his head loose. Drugged, someone had drugged him and they were carrying him.  
Johns last thought was that he shouldn’t panic. Sherlock would find him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the wait! I promise I'll start updating a bit more speedy like in the future. You can also look forward to a One off in the future that's part of this series that is a bit fluffier then this. ^^
> 
> And feedback is always appreciated. 
> 
> Thanks!


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